Watch the World Burn
by atree
Summary: The Avatar protects the people. Who protects the people from the Avatar? [She places her nails on his chest. "I want to hear you scream."]


Warning: Graphic torture later on.

Watch the World Burn

**i. the healer**

Katara first begins to realize something is wrong with the Avatar when she is four years old.

Korra's mother is worried about her daughter's lack of friends in the compound. Her father stresses the importance of her safety. For her fourth birthday, they gift her a polar bear dog pup, barely larger than her leg, the strongest of the litter, its fur thick and white as packed snow.

"Thanks!" she says, and everyone thinks the spark in her eyes is excitement at having a new companion.

The trouble starts two days later when a White Lotus guard finds Naga cowering in the snow, bleeding from her right leg. He immediately brings the polar bear dog to Katara. "You need to take better care of her," she scolds Korra, who is watching curiously. Katara attributes the hole-sized wounds in Naga's leg to ming snakes.

The third time Naga is brought to Katara, they think something is wrong with the dog. "I'm afraid this happens sometimes," Katara tells her. "Sometimes they're born with brain damage. Or maybe the damage comes after, when they're still developing. In any case, Naga seems to get hurt very easily."

"Are you taking her away?"

"Yes, Korra, for her own good, and for yours." Katara sighs – she remembers Aang and Appa and mourns the loss of what could've been. "She's healed now. Do you want to hold her?"

Korra reaches out her hand. Naga jumps up and growls, fur bristling, teeth bared.

"I'm sure she's just confused," Katara says quickly. "We'll find you a new puppy, a healthy one, this time. It'll only be a few days."

They never do find her a new puppy. A guard finds Naga's corpse later that night behind the house where Korra sleeps. There are two ice spikes through each of her eyes, six more piercing her body, and another through the tender padding of her foot. When the guard brings the corpse to Katara, he says that they should start a search immediately for the person who did this.

"Just…forget about it," Katara says sadly, observing the amateur waterbending that formed the wounds. "Accidents happen."

From that day on, she keeps a closer watch on their young Avatar.

**ii. the firebending master**

She passes her elemental mastery tests faster than anyone thinks possible. Water is her first, though she never gets the hang of healing. Earth is learned in a matter of months. And fire – her firebending teacher proclaims he's never seen anyone with so much natural talent for fire in his whole life.

She is particularly proficient with its destructive power.

The firebending mastery test is a three-on-one duel. She has been nagging the White Lotus to test her for months. "You still need more spiritual guidance before you're ready," they tell her. They relent on her seventeenth birthday, when she swears she will burn down the entire compound if she waits any longer.

It goes exactly as predicted, her firebending teacher thinks as he watches from the pavilion. The three firebenders she fights are also masters – traditionally, the test is not meant to end in victory. Who expects an untested trainee to win against such odds? The important thing is the journey, he tells his former pupils. We test your ability to stay calm under pressure, your ability to perceive threats, your ability to attack and defend from multiple angles. Much like in life, the result is secondary. As long as you display what you've learned, you will pass.

She destroys the three of them in less than two minutes.

Their first mistake is going easy on her. The first firebender shoots a slow blast of flame to gauge her speed. But instead of dodging, she charges forward _through_ the flame, dissipating it as easily as blowing out a candle, and by the time he brings up his arms to defend himself she has already smashed two fireballs into his head. He is lucky – she is not so close when she attacks, and he falls unconscious immediately.

The second firebender uses the opportunity to shoot a jet of flame at her back. The third attacks with several fire blasts from the front. The flames collide below her as she jumps in the air, sparks scintillating in the frost. Their second mistake is following her movements – when they look up they are momentarily blinded by the Arctic sun. She spins in midair, kicking out two tongues of flame that knock the second firebender out of the ring. He is the luckiest, escaping on a technicality – it doesn't even hurt much.

Her firebending teacher feels a surge of pride. Sure, the girl may have some personality problems, but who can deny her talent? Those upstart nobles at the Fire Palace are going to eat their hearts out when they find out that he has turned a child into a master in just one year! His heart continues to swell as she pushes around the third firebender like a used match – dissipating his flames with a sweep of her hand, dodging his punches as if he is standing still, knocking him off his feet with a well-time sweep – right up to the point she mounts him and slams a fire-wreathed fist into his face.

"Stop!"

The third firebender is also lucky. He survives because Katara is watching. Still, the scar covers half his face and no amount of healing will ever regrow his left eye.

"How was that?" Korra says, grinning. "I passed, right?"

No, her firebending teacher imagines himself saying. It was a mistake to test you in the first place. Your spirit is twisted. Firebending is not all about destruction – it is also about life. It is not all about impulse – it is about separation. Power without restraint is a curse. Calling you a master will be an insult to the thousand generations of masters before me.

But he sees the fire in her eyes and wonders how long they will live if he denies her.

"Congratulations," he says. For the rest of his life he never takes on another student.

**iii. the parents**

Following Tenzin's refusal to teach her, Korra tells her parents and the White Lotus elders that she is leaving for Republic City. Half-heartedly, they try to convince her to stay. You are not ready, they tell her. What they mean is the world is not ready. The tantrum she throws incinerates half the compound and adds three more scars to Tonraq's collection.

Her parents wonder where they went wrong. Senna blames it on a mentally ill great-uncle on her mother's side. Tonraq tells her it must be the will of the spirits. Katara says that it's nobody fault, that maybe seeing the world is exactly what Korra needs to find her true self.

None of them believe it. They let Korra go with the feeling they have released a rabid komodo rhino from its cage. Still, when the ship finally vanishes over the sealine, they all let out a breath they've held for years.

**iv. the police chief**

Three Triad gangsters are the first casualties of her arrival.

Lin receives reports of some minor gang violence at one p.m. on a Friday afternoon. She tells her secretary to cancel all her appointments for the next hour. She doesn't usually deal with these things personally, but an entire morning of paperwork has given her a headache she knows _just _the cure for.

One hour has been far too optimistic, she realizes as she surveys the damage from the airship. Describing it as "minor gang violence" is like describing Sozin's comet as a warm rock. The entire third district of downtown is in flames. Smoke spirals from the streets and the heat reaches her even this far up. Underground pipes have burst, sending out torrents of water that have been frozen into sheets of ice stretching across three streets. Half the buildings are caved in, smashed by chunks of earth – chunks of earth the size of Satomobiles, she stares in disbelief.

She hears a crash to the northeast as an entire building crumbles on its foundations, followed by screams, more smoke. "That's close enough!" she shouts to the helmsman. "We'll go on foot from here. Metalbenders, follow me! Arrest any gang members you see!"

Except there are no gang members. What Lin has assumed to be a gang war is surprisingly lacking in benders, even injured ones. When they land on ground level, they do find, however, plenty of injured civilians. "What happened here?" she barks to a man cowering behind a stack of gramophones.

All she gets out of him are the words "girl" and "Triple Threats." She assigns a small group to take care of the civilians while the rest follow her along the rooftops, chasing the trail of collateral damage. Something isn't right here, she thinks. The Triple Threats have no benders of this caliber, and not even the Agni Kai has firebenders capable of melting the tar from the streets, nor the Red Monsoon waterbenders capable of controlling water from pipes buried fifty feet below the ground. And none of the gangs are stupid enough to fight in broad daylight in one of the most populated areas of the city.

At last they emerge from a cloud of smoke to the source – a girl.

A water tribe girl, to be more precise. Lin scans the area but there is nobody else, just the girl casually leaning against a crashed Satomobile amidst flames and cracked earth and foot-long ice spears jutting out of the ground. The girl's eyes widen as they approach.

"Cool, metalbenders!" she exclaims.

"What happened here?" Lin says. "Where did the Triple Threats go?"

The girl kicks over the car to reveal three corpses.

It is almost poetry, Lin thinks. The firebender has been burned until all his flesh is black. The earthbender has been crushed, arms and legs and neck jutting out at impossible angles. The waterbender has been frozen – and then shattered, the remains of his head still encased in shards of ice littering the ground.

The girl smirks.

"I caught the bad guys for you, officers."

**v. the bender brothers**

The first time Bolin sees Korra, he thinks she is the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. _And _he gets to make a good first impression on her by rescuing her from the gym owner, _and _she turns out to be a fan of probending! The only explanation is that they are soul mates.

Mako is less enthusiastic.

"You guys were incredible out there!" Korra says after the match. The crowd is still cheering at Mako's hat trick, and Bolin's grin is wide enough to split boulders. "Mind showing me a few tricks?"

"You're still here?" Mako says, turning away just in time to miss the rage that contorts her features.

"Just ignore him," Bolin says. "Yeah, I can show you the basics. I'm just not sure how my earthbending would translate to your waterbending, but I can give you some pointers, help you out with the footwork – "

"Oh, I was thinking more in line of a fight," Korra says. "You know, some live practice. There's no better way to learn, is there?"

"I…suppose," Bolin says. He wonders how he can win without hurting her, or lose without making it seem too obvious he's throwing. There is something off about her smile that is all teeth, but it must be the lighting.

"Have fun," Mako says, walking out. "It's getting late. I'm going to turn in – "

Korra stomps her foot. A pillar of earth rises from the floor, blocking the door.

"You're an earthbender?" Bolin says, mouth open.

It is Mako who realizes it first. He slams his palm into his forehead. "You're the Avatar."

"What do you say?" Korra says, crossing her arms. "Two vs. one. You don't want to miss out on a chance to fight the Avatar, do you?"

Her tone is not a question but a command. I have no reason to fight you, Mako thinks, and even Bolin is hesitant, now. There is something unnatural about her eagerness – swaying back and forth, foot tapping against the ground, index finger drawing circles in the crook of her elbow. But even as they watch they realize she has no intention of allowing them to refuse.

"Fine," Mako says at last. "But don't expect us to go easy on you."

She grins.

The battlefield is the training room, already set up with rock discs, but no water – "I'll stick with fire and earth," she says. "To keep it fair." They help her into the protective gear, which she tugs at incessantly. "It's so heavy," she complains. "I never understood the point of these things anyway. How are you supposed to hurt anyone?"

In retrospect, Mako thinks, that is their first sign to start running and never look back.

Even if their season standing is unimpressive, out of all the pro benders in Republic City, the two of them form the strongest two-man team. Bolin seizes initiative immediately by firing a rock disc at her, which she easily dodges. When she is still in midair Mako follows up with a fireball. It hits her squarely, but he is surprised when the fire breaks upon her skin with no visible damage. Her first attacks are awkward – she is not used to bending the rock discs, and the first couple fly wide. Her fire attacks fare slightly better. She has power, Mako thinks as he watches a blast of fire leave scorch marks on the walls, but no finesse. She is predictable.

He catches Bolin's eye. His brother nods. Mako kicks a long, sweeping trail of flame that arcs slowly through the air. She doesn't even bother dodging, merely flicks her wrist and the flame dissipates before it is even halfway across the room. Here comes her counter, he thinks, and sure enough, Korra arches her arm back to shoot a rock disc at him, who is still (seemingly) off-balance from the kick, standing on one foot.

Bolin is faster. It is all about patience, he thinks – typical rookie mistake, being too eager. The first rock disc collides with her torso, sending her reeling. The second rock disc slams into her head.

"Sorry!" he calls. "Are you okay – "

She gets back up and _snarls_.

Bolin ducks down as two rock discs sail overhead, so fast they embed themselves on the wall behind him. Her aim has certainly improved, he thinks. What he's not prepared for is the ground below him to rise, a square inch of earth smashing into his jaw hard enough to make him see winged lemurs dancing through the air. He collapses, blood seeping out of his mouth where he bites his tongue.

"That's against the rules!" Mako shouts. "You can only earthbend the discs – "

The jet of fire she shoots out certainly exceeds the one-second duration tournament limit on firebending. Who needs finesse when it covers the entire room? Mako rushes in front of Bolin and thrusts both arms out, desperately trying to dissipate the flame, but it is like pushing back against the sun, hot, so hot, and he wants to move away but if he does his brother will surely burn…

The fire vanishes. Mako collapses to his knees, panting, clutching his charred fingers. He catches a movement at the edge of his vision.

"Stop!" he shouts.

But Korra is already past him, knocking him aside as easily as knocking aside a training dummy. She stands over Bolin, who is still lying on the floor, spitting out blood. Two full stacks of rock discs hover over her head. Bolin stares up at her, thinking that the bruise brings out the blue of her eyes, thinking that maybe Mako is right, maybe he should stop talking to every pretty girl he sees.

The rock discs come crashing down.

"So," she says, "I win?"

The next day, at the hospital, the doctor informs them that although Mako's fingers will heal within a month, he doesn't know when Bolin will wake up. His brain has undergone severe trauma with massive internal bleeding. He also has four broken ribs, a pierced lung, a smashed tibia, complete destruction of the right femur, and open fractures along both arms. Even if he does wake up, it will be years before he can move again.

All Mako can think about is how lucky they are to be alive.

**vi. the airbending master**

Korra interrupts their dinner by barging through the door and kicking one foot against the table. The children cower away from her – especially Jinora, even Meelo. Pema clutches Rohan, who begins to wail, closer to her chest. Ikki rubs the scars down her back and starts shivering uncontrollably (Tenzin still hasn't been able to get the full story. Ikki wanders off one afternoon, and when they find her later that night she is crying and screaming with no memories of the last six hours).

"You will teach me airbending."

"I'm busy with Council duties," Tenzin says. It is the same excuse he always gives. He has heard the stories from his mother. "The Equalists – "

"You _will _teach me airbending," she says, and Tenzin understands it is not a request.

"It won't be easy. Air is the element of peace – "

She laughs. "Last three were easy enough. How hard can it be?"

It goes as badly as he fears. She is impatient, irascible, immature, impulsive. Her meditation lasts two minutes before she stands up and slams her foot against the pillars, shaking the entire meditation pavilion. He sees her hands clench into fists and immediately placates her by suggesting they try the martial stances. The training ground is conveniently bare of flammable materials. Surprisingly, she takes his criticisms well, adjusting her feet and arms accordingly, going through the katas without complaint, and she displays a talent for the physical aspects of airbending never present in his children. She does so well, in fact, that he decides to let her try the airbending gates.

"The key is to be like the leaf," he says. "Flow with the movement of the gates."

She cracks her knuckles. "Let's do this."

The first round lasts eight seconds. She makes it as far as the second tier of gates before getting smacked backwards with a large purple bruise over one eye. "Don't force it," he tells her, but she is already charging forward again. She lasts ten seconds this time. The third round she is back to eight seconds. The fourth round, she manages to make it to the center before getting hit by four gates in quick succession, and when she is back out she falls to her knees and slams her fist repeatedly into the ground until her knuckles bleed. "It will take time," Tenzin starts. "You can't expect – No!"

He is too late. Korra fires off a blast of fire so large the air shimmers as if underwater. Half the gates are incinerated immediately. The second blast finishes off the other half. Embers fade to ash, smoke curling towards the sky. Two thousand years of culture, Tenzin thinks, staring in disbelief. Gone in less than a second.

She is not done.

The third blast of fire careens into the forest. The trees are ablaze, alive with the chittering of birds taking flight. The fourth blast is aimed at the dormitories – where Pema and the kids are. Tenzin dives forward, diverting the fireball with a blast of air. He has just enough time to be relieved before the fifth blast of fire catches him in the chest. By the time he gets back up, Korra is already out of sight. Panicking, sweat running down his head from the heat, he follows the trail of flames left in her wake. In the distance air acolytes are screaming. Smoke obscures the sky. Half the island is on fire by the time he catches up to her – or, more accurately, before her rage subsides.

"You know what?" she says. "I don't need airbending. I can do just fine with three."

It takes a team of water benders from the mainland the entire night to put out the fire. In the end, three air acolytes are dead and two dozen more are injured. The training area is destroyed. The meditation area is destroyed. The sky bison caves are destroyed, and the bison have scattered – the corpses of the young litters, so young they cannot fly, are found in the flames. The greenhouse is destroyed. Half the plaza is destroyed.

How did it turn out this way, dad? Tenzin thinks, staring at the wreckage. Why did it have to be her?

**vii. the politician**

As expected, Korra jumps at the chance to join the task force.

What Tarrlok does not expect is for her to completely mess it up.

"What were you doing?" he shouts at her once they are back at City Hall after the raid. "Why did you go in before you were supposed to? You ruined our entire plan!"

She yawns, slouching against her chair. "Not my style."

"Half the Equalists escaped because of you!"

"So? We still caught the other half."

"No, you _killed _the other half. We could've squeezed them for information, but you just couldn't control yourself, could you? What part of _capture_ don't you understand?" He slams his hand against the table, and he is too angry to notice the way the Avatar's eyes narrow, the way her fingers dig into the wood. "I thought you were at least good for combat. Two months of planning, down the drain! The reporters will have a field day – "

He manages to block the spear of ice before it pierces his eye. Unfortunately, he cannot block the ceiling crashing down on him, crushing his arms and legs below several tons of earth. Her foot stomps down on his face and grinds it into the ground – it is a purely physical act, no bending. Even she seems to realize the consequences of killing a Councilman. But that doesn't prevent her from continuing to stomp down until his eyes are swollen shut, his nose smashed, his teeth littering the floor.

"I don't follow anyone's orders," she says, and walks out.

**viii. the cabbage merchant**

Lau wonders what he has done to deserve all this.

He is currently cooped up inside a cell, arms and feet shackled – as if a sixty-year old nonbender can escape. The only window is high near the ceiling, letting in weary rays of sunlight. Strange, mottled stains cover the walls, giving off the smell of ammonia. He has been here for two days. The beds here are as hard as stone, don't they realize that he is arthritic? Not that he can sleep anyway, with those criminals in the next cell over snoring louder than saber-tooth moose lions. And the food is plain inedible – cold, soggy gruel that he forces down his mouth once a day to stave off starvation. Good thing he has lost much of his appetite after his arrest.

"Get up," someone says. Lau raises his head. A guard stands outside his cell, tapping against the bars. "You have a guest."

"Is it my lawyer?" he says, jumping to his feet. "About time!"

"Nope, just me."

The voice comes from a girl who is certainly not his lawyer. She is dressed in long baggy pants and a blue shirt that shows off her arms, with a water tribe arm band wrapped around her right bicep. She looks strangely familiar.

"I'm the Avatar," she says. "Mind if I talk with you a bit?"

He is frightened by the eagerness in her eyes. He is terrified when they bring him to the interrogation room – a cramped box made from four metal walls, lit only by a single unsteady light bulb that casts shadows on the floor. The guard shoves him into a chair at the center of the room; the Avatar takes a seat across from him.

"Thanks," she says to the guard. "Get out. I can take it from here."

The guard swallows, hard, and salutes her. Lau has never seen a man in metal armor run so fast in his life.

"I just want to ask you a few questions," the Avatar says, smiling. "What do you know about the Equalists?"

"I already told you guys, I don't know anything," Lau whines. "I'm innocent! Someone framed me – "

The fist sends him sprawling to the ground. It comes so fast he is not sure what happens; suddenly he is lying face-down, glasses smashed, blood flowing from his nose. Arms shaking, he tries to pick himself up. A hand wraps around his neck and lifts him off the floor.

"Don't screw with me," she says an inch away from his face. "What do you know about the Equalists?"

"I don't know anything – "

The hand smashes him into the wall hard enough for his skull to rebound off the metal. She kicks him in the face once, twice. When he comes to he is crumpled on the floor. He tries to speak but his mouth is filled with blood. The room is spinning, his head is splitting, the world is breaking. He vomits.

"I swear I have nothing to do with the Equalists," he says, tears mixing with blood. "I was framed!"

"I think you're lying." The Avatar stoops down to face level. She flicks her fingers. A stream of water floats out of the water skin tied to her belt, flows back and forth hypnotically in the air between his eyes. It solidifies into a blade of ice. He sees his own bloody face reflected in the white.

"I'll say anything you want me to," he says, speaking faster and faster, words blurring into another so fast he is barely even aware of talking anymore. "I was an Equalist I was Amon's right-hand man I'lltellyoueverything – "

The knife digs into his shoulder and cuts downward to his navel. His belly opens and his intestines spill out onto his thighs, undulating like obese worms. He screams and screams and screams and all he can hear is her laughter, high and sweet like the plucking of a liuqin. "I'll say whatever you want!" he screams again, but it is no use, no use. The blade cuts off his fingers one by one and then goes on to his toes. When he is all out of appendages it starts sawing at the tender pulp of ears. Please stop he begs but he is not sure if he says it out loud or thinks it.

The blade cuts deep into his chest and stops. He feels it melt back to water somewhere inside his lungs.

"What are you doing?" he hears someone shout. "You don't have the authority to conduct an interrogation!" And then, a whisper hushed with awe: "What have you _done_ to him?"

"Calm down, Lin, I was just helping you guys out," her voice says. "I heard you were having trouble getting information."

"Get a doctor here immediately!"

The last thing Lau hears before he dies are her words, so casual she might've been discussing the weather:

"I think he's innocent. You guys made a mistake."

**ix. the assassin**

"A waterbender, an airbender, and a metalbender walk into a warehouse. I feel like I'm missing the punchline."

He props his head against a closed fist, watching the three figures shake off the rain from their cloaks. The first bows in greeting, but the other two, he notices, warily eye the shadows. They do not trust him, but that is fine, because he does not trust them either. Distrust is a fine state to be in.

"You are ready to carry out the plan?" the first man says.

"Whenever you are, Councilman Tarrlok."

"Don't you dare betray us," the next figure says, her voice low and harsh. "I was against this from the start."

"We've already discussed this, Lin," the third figure says. "It's the only way."

"Indeed. We work towards our mutual benefit." The assassin steeples his fingers, leaning forward. "There is one point I'm not clear on. If you want to kill the Avatar so much, why not just do it in her sleep?"

"No! We do _not _want to kill her."

"You're too soft, Tenzin," Tarrlok growls. "I know you feel responsible for her, but she's not Aang. Look at what she did to me!"

"What these two idiots mean to say," Lin says, "is that we can't risk killing her. If she enters the Avatar state, there's no telling what she'll do. The city may not survive."

"So you come to me."

"Your methods are ideal," Tenzin says. "Effective, but painless. Permanent, but nonlethal. As much as I hate to admit it, you're our best chance."

Beneath his mask Amon smiles.

**x. the avatar**

She has long since given up trying to understand.

"Don't worry," Tarrlok says with an empty mouth, his face swollen. "We have airships on standby ready to come at a moment's notice. There's no reason for you to be scared."

She doesn't understand why she should be scared.

"Good luck," the police chief tells her. "You'll need it."

She doesn't understand why the police chief is grinning.

Tenzin is silent.

She doesn't understand why there is water on his cheeks.

She makes her way to Aang Memorial Island ten minutes before the appointed time. She sits on the roof of the museum, resting against the base of Aang's foot. She has heard many stories about how great her predecessor has been. One day he will come to her to guide her, or so everyone says. She doesn't understand what she needs guiding for.

The clock strikes twelve, then silence.

"Amon?" she calls into the night. "You there?"

She gives him another ten minutes – a rare courtesy, but she has been looking forward to this. She jumps down from the roof. What a waste of time, she thinks as she heads back to the boat. She could've spent the night prowling the streets, or in underground cage matches (a popular, if illegal, sport for those who want to fight without the restraints of probending), or she could've paid another visit to that homeless man in the park, who by now must have bled to death with all those ice needles she stuck him with. She needs to find a replacement.

The bolas twist around her leg. She is dragged halfway inside the museum before she breaks free in a swirl of fire.

At least twenty chi-blockers are gathered in a circle around her, their goggles illuminated red by her flames. So many, Amon is not supposed to bring so many. She fires off one blast of fire after another, trying to keep the room lit, trying to keep from getting swarmed. The chi-blockers are agile and used to the dark, but there are so many that it's not so much about accuracy as probability; she hears five screams, six, seven, eight.

A hand closes around her shoulder. She whirls around, shooting a blast of fire into the chi-blocker's face. He staggers back, and she uses the chance to stomp the ground, launching an earth spike through his chest, its point red where it comes out the other side. She wants to rip open the wound and feel the blood between her fingers but there is no time, that can come afterwards. The second chi-blocker comes at her with a pair of electrified kali sticks. She dodges his first strike, almost dodges the second that just barely manages to brush her chest with the force of five hundred thousand volts.

Pain she understands. Rage – rage she understands.

She grabs his head with both hands and sears the mask from his face. When she sees the whites of his eyes she covers them with her thumbs and pushes. The eye-liquid oozes between her fingers.

Not enough. She forces his mouth open, watching the tongue flap around, trying to scream. She holds her fingers steady over the hole and shoots fire down his throat, inhales the smoke that blows out from the pores in his skin, listens to the dry, mangled cry like paper burning.

Two feather-light taps on her elbow. Instinctively, she lashes out, but there is no fire. Her arm is as stiff as a corpse left in the snow. A pair of wires wraps around her other arm, forcing her to drop the body of the chi-blocker. More taps on the back her legs. She falls to her knees.

He appears out of the darkness.

"I received your invitation, Avatar."

She spits. "It was supposed to be one-on-one. Fight me."

"I have already won." Amon cups her chin in one hand, gold eyes meeting blue. He is the first to blink.

"Fight me. I want to hear you scream."

"I'm afraid that's not a wish that will ever be granted." He turns his back on her, gazing through the door to the city. "When I first heard of your arrival, I was unsure of what to do with you. I could not simply remove your bending – that would make you a martyr, and _I_ am the onlyhero the people need. But you have solved that problem for me. I could hardly ask for a better personification of bending oppression. You should hear the stories they tell about you, Avatar. I wonder – is it true your mother is a dark spirit and your father is a wolfbat?" He stoops down to face her again, closer this time, so close she feels his words against her lips. "I must admit I'm curious. What makes you that way, Avatar? What goes on inside that brain?"

"When I get out of here, none of you will survive."

He sighs, shaking his head.

"Farewell," he says, and places his thumb on her forehead.

She jerks back. Her left arm wrenches free of the wire, swinging at him, but he is already stepping back, arms in a guard position. "Wait!" he commands the chi-blockers. "You said you wanted to fight me. Very well. In the interest of fairness, I will give you the opportunity you crave."

He is mocking her – he knows she only has one working limb. She bares her teeth, imagining her nails digging into the supple flesh of his chest, carving lines down the surface his heart. He is patient, circling her, waiting for her next strike. It gives her time to bend a sliver of water from the water skin tied to her belt.

"The time of the Avatar is over," he says, advancing. "Bending is not synonymous with strength. Even at the height of your powers you pose no threat to me."

She freezes the water into a blade of ice. "Your death will be slow."

"What do you hope to do with that little knife?"

"It's not for you," she says, and relishes his eyes going wide.

"Stop her!" he shouts, running forward. The chi-blockers converge on her, but she simply flicks her finger down, and the blade of ice pierces her own chest –

_the cut on her mother's finger, the most vivid color she has ever seen in this world of snow, listening to the yell as her mother drops the cooking knife that spirals through the air with its edge catching the gleam of sunlight and the kitchen reeks of the skinned seal perched raw and sticky next to the sink _

– and she is rising into the air on the back of a tornado. Her eyes are bright as spirit lanterns. She spreads out her hands. The earth crumbles around her and the sea rises between the fissures, tendrils of water wrapping around the chi-blockers and tossing them aside like ragdolls. She listens to the sweet breaking of their bones. Amon holds up his hand and briefly she feels her muscles spasm, as if the blood is flowing the opposite direction, but it is as threatening as pins-and-needles. She thrusts her arm forward, pinning him against the wall with a gust of wind. He is still struggling when she strides forward, a thousand blades of ice forming behind her.

She places her nails on his chest. "I want to hear you scream."

He screams.

When she is finished she discards the ground meat. The museum lies in ruins, the island sinking into the sea. Slowly she rises into the sky. Waves thrum below, mixing with the calls of the gulls. There is still fire in her veins. What are the limits of power? Supremacy is her birthright and annihilation is her creed. Republic City lies before her in a kaleidoscope of lights stretching from mountain to coast, and she sees not just the city but all one million inhabitants like ants scurrying through the dirt. She has never heard a million screams at once.

She raises her arms. A tsunami rises, blocking out the moon.

Voices, so many voices. A hand on her arm. She thinks he looks nothing like his statue.

"Get out of my head," she snarls. "I am the one in control."

Her arms come down. The tsunami breaks upon the city, the lights go dark. She stomps her foot. The mountains crumble, falling on the city like stacks of pai sho tiles. She draws her arms in a circle. Tornados scream through the streets. She claps her hands, and the inferno sets the city blazing brighter than the sun. She is the composer, she is the conductor, she is the orchestrator; _they _are the players, and she revels in the melody. Skyscrapers collapsing in clouds of dust. Crowds crushed below debris. Blood draining into gutters. Above the water bridges break. Satomobiles sent screaming below. Lovers ripped from each other's arms and flung thousands of feet into the air. Splattered corpses when they fall. Barrooms turning into ovens. Children trampled in the panic. Families drowning as they sleep. A city dies in ash and glass and rubble –

Above it all she laughs.


End file.
